


Rock Out With Your Cock Out

by fyredancer



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, PWP, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-11
Packaged: 2017-11-29 00:02:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/680380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fyredancer/pseuds/fyredancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a science fiction double feature!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Out With Your Cock Out

**Author's Note:**

> For the life of me, I couldn't think of a better title. Much thanks to this Act of Kaulitz for bringing you this smut in the first place; my beta, ma_chelle, the one and only gajastar for the banner, and steinsgrrl, traumheist, remy_jen, and kishmet for egging me on. Along with all my twitterpated ladies.

Bill's eyes are sparkling and his cheeks still filled with high color as they crowd onto the elevator together. There's a tall, wide paper bag plastered with fashion labels dangling from his hand and his leg is pressing warmly against Tom's, hand hovering near Tom's ass; it's almost too much, given that they're sandwiched between two big bodyguards, but Tom is in no position to complain. His entire body is thrumming, coursing with a heavy buzz the likes of which he hasn't felt in a while, maybe not since his early to mid teens, because he's so hard and turned on for Bill he can't even handle it and he has been for hours. He wants it bad. He's surprised he could give coherent answers with a mike shoved in his face, and thank god for baggy jeans regardless of whether they're in style or not.

Fuck, today he needed the room.

"Good night, thank you," Bill tells their bodyguards, as Tom jitters beside him, fingers tapping a mindless tattoo against his leg that is some kind of Morse code for 'fuck off, dudes, Tom is gonna get laid.' "Tom, want to come in for a drink; talk about the shows?"

Tom licks his lips, trying to take even breaths in and out as he gives a jerky nod in response. He can't even trust his voice. Bill is trying not to beam over at him as he fits his keycard into the door. Like it was ever any question that they'd end up in the same room. In Tom's mind's eye, Bill is doing that triumphant strut over and over again, executing the hip-popping turnout at the end of the catwalk, clamping that demure little bite-down on his lower lip as he surveys the entire crowd that is applauding and panting for him.

Even Tom...especially Tom.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him Tom is on his twin, taking a double-armful of Bill. Bill is warm and smells good and makes an excited noise, dropping his bag to one side and twisting in Tom's arms. Their mouths connect, hard, and Bill's teeth dent his lip as he surges against him, crowding Tom back against the wall.

"Want you," Tom says, and he's pretty sure it's the only coherent statement he can shape for now. He's been aching for it ever since he watched his brother zip up into trou tight enough to put everything on display.

Everything that other people want, yet only Tom can have.

He pets Bill roughly through his glittery silver-studded jeans, tracing out the shape of the bulge beneath his palm, and Bill pushes him harder against the wall. Bill makes a low, needy sound against Tom's mouth, tongue sliding firm against Tom's, and they thrust a few times against one another in an excess of sheer lust. Tom groans and fumbles for Bill's belt, beyond grateful that Bill has had the foresight or perhaps even the pity on Tom to leave off with the complicated buckle today.

"I want you to suck me," Bill says against the corner of his mouth, kissing him there, licking his bottom lip. He bites the lip and pulls away, letting it snap from between his teeth before licking it with quick soothing strokes.

Tom's hips jolt and he pushes the aching knot of his cock against Bill's groin. "Yes, yes, please," he says breathlessly, because amongst all of the filthy images assailing him today, being on his knees while Bill was on the catwalk was a pleasant fantasy that made him so hard he'd required three glasses of wine to put a dent in his raging erection.

He drags the zipper down as Bill gives him a last kiss, all tongue and heated breath, his eyes dark and sultry beneath drooping lids. Then Bill pushes at his shoulders and Tom's sinking to his knees, barely three steps from the entryway as he draws Bill's crimson cock from his black boxer-briefs and straight into his mouth.

Tom closes his eyes and takes Bill as far as he can go, sucking him to the back of his throat and trying to swallow around the head that's painting the back of his tongue with sticky bitter pre-come. He groans as Bill grabs his head, stripping his cap off and flinging it who-cares-where, draping the rest of his headgear around his shoulders and stroking his jet black nails roughly over the cornrows. Bill grips Tom by the braids and moves his hips, working his cock back and forth in Tom's mouth. Breathing hard, blowing air through his nose, Tom takes it. He plants himself on the carpet and denim burns against his knees as they sway back and forth while Bill fucks his mouth.

Making hungry, needy noises around Bill's cock, Tom swallows and hums and enjoys the weakly-uttered "oh god" coming from somewhere above him. He loves sucking Bill's cock, especially on nights like this, when they're both all but lit up and everyone in the world wants a piece of Kaulitz younger.

And Tom is the one who gets it.

"Mmm, mmm," Tom moans around Bill's cock; he can't get enough. Bill is retreating, though, pulling his dick from Tom's greedy mouth. Tom kneels there gaping, blinking, still swaying a little as he tries to catch his breath and swallow the drool collecting in his mouth.

He doesn't even flinch when Bill smacks him with it, slapping the length of his cock against Tom's cheek. He just keeps his mouth open when Bill rubs the tip over his lower lip; he purses his lips, trying to catch it.

"Tell me you want it," Bill says, breathing heavily.

"I want it," Tom says outright, as the hot wet tip of Bill's cock nudges his bottom lip.

"Tell me you need it, tell me you're so fucking turned on," Bill demands, drawing his cock back and slapping it against Tom's other cheek with a wet smack.

Tom's so hard, leaking in his shorts already, that he has to reach down and adjust himself. "I want it, fuck, I need you to put it in my mouth," he says, parting his lips a little wider and flicking his tongue against his top lip. "I'm so fucking hot for you, Bill."

Bill's devious smile lights his whole face up. He pushes his cock into Tom's mouth and grabs both sides of his face, forcing Tom to suck him down deep or risk choking.

Tears smart from the corners of Tom's eyes but he loves it; Bill is thick in his mouth, filling him up so much he's got to open his throat around him. He has to lean back but he grabs at Bill's upper thighs, the join where endless expanse of leg meets hip, and makes helpless noises as Bill starts to fuck his mouth again. There's saliva pooling in his mouth and he makes another noise, swirling his tongue as much as he can manage to spread spit along the length of Bill's cock as it strokes back and forth in his mouth.

"You like that?" Bill asks, breathing harder, both thumbs stroking Tom's cheekbones as he looks down at him, locking gazes.

Tom can't even nod, can barely 'mmm' a response, but Bill knows and his eyes glint with something like triumph. Tom doesn't like it; he loves it, and thrashes his tongue against the underside of Bill's cock, gripping hard at Bill's glittery jeans as he enjoys the slow hot press of Bill back and forth down his throat.

"What else do you like?" Bill murmurs, stemming back and resting his cockhead on Tom's lips.

Tom licks at it, tasting the first hint of Bill's release. He reaches up to stroke it, half-expecting Bill to slap his hand away, but Bill is starting to wriggle out of his jeans.

"I like your ass," Tom says hoarsely, his voice rendered gravelly from the blowjob. "I couldn't stop staring as you moved up the walk with that zipper in the back, _fuck_ , I wanted to drag it down with my _teeth_ and when that Caten brother rested his hand on your ass..." He jacks Bill's cock near his mouth and stretches up to take the tip between his lips again.

"So territorial, Tomi," Bill purrs, stroking his hands past Tom's ears along his scalp. "And they've been so nice to us."

Tom wrinkles his nose, sucking Bill in until his cheeks are hollowed and he's got about half of Bill's hard dick in his mouth again.

"Don't you want to know _how_ nice they've been?" Bill continues. He pulls his cock out of Tom's mouth, teasingly giving him a last slap with it across the lips, before reaching for the bag he's dropped.

Tom takes in a gasping breath as Bill starts to unravel a long leathery piece of material. "Oh my god, they sent you home with the outfit?" His eyes pop out and he's seeing it again, that tantalizing zipper situated just so above the small firm rounds of Bill's ass.

"The pants, at least," Bill confirms. "It's the prototype."

"Put them on," Tom orders, and watches Bill's lip curl. He knows Bill is torn now between resisting something that constitutes obeying, and his own natural desire to feel the slip of the leather material against his bare skin again.

"You want me to strut in front of you, in these pants?" Bill says aloud, his own eyes black as Tom's must be. His face and neck are gleaming with the faintest sheen of sweat already and he pulls the leather pants all the way out of the bag, shaking out the folds and drawing Tom's eyes to the glint of the silver grommets down both thighs.

Tom nods dumbly, reaching down to adjust his cock again. All he can think of now is how Bill's cock was jutting against the front of that leather, flaccid but outlined so clearly. His mouth is watering again and he shifts on the carpet, torn between reaching for Bill's cock to take it in his mouth and pursuing this equally delectable scenario, getting Bill to climb into those amazing pants so that he can unzipper them and peel them just far enough down to pump into his tight little ass.

Bill moans aloud as though he can hear the thought, and strokes himself, gripping at the base of his cock. "Why don't we do that later?" he suggests desperately, and nods toward the bed, which has been made up into neat corners again. "Right now I want you in me...and that's what's going to happen anyhow, about two point five seconds after I do up the zip."

"Uh-huh," Tom manages, and gets up, shucking his clothes off as he goes.

Bill finds the lube and joins him at the foot of the bed, where they share another hot kiss. Bill grabs at his ass and tongue-fucks his mouth as Tom struggles with his twin's clothes, pushing down boxers and all but ripping his t-shirt off. As Bill's head clears the shirt he's struggling but cooperative, breathless and laughing even as his eyes are hungry. Tom kisses him again, then tips him onto the bed.

"Just go in, I need it," Bill tells him, his voice high and breathy. "Do me, Tom." He arranges himself for Tom on his hands and knees, lifting his ass into range.

Tom takes him at his word – they'd fucked last night, on a pre-celebratory high, and managed a quickie before Bill's shower that morning. He lubes his cock up and mounts Bill in one long thrust, standing at the edge of the bed and pushing Bill face-first into the coverlet as Bill moans and opens up around his dick. Pale black-tipped fingers scrabble for a hold and Bill hauls down the covers, exposing white sheets. They both groan as Tom holds himself against Bill's ass then begins to move stiffly, pounding out the rhythm of this first, most urgent wave of arousal.

"Fuck, you were so fucking sexy out there," Tom tells him. "I can't stop thinking about how you looked up there, strutting your stuff."

"Strutting it for you," Bill says, his voice strained. He pushes back onto Tom with firm backward-thrusting rolls of his hips. "Fuck, I...oh, fuck..." He shudders under Tom and clenches around him so hard he could be coming already.

Tom cries out and slaps Bill's ass, unable to stop himself from pistoning forward. Bill presses back to meet each thrust, making dazed anxious noises.

"I know," Tom murmurs, wetting his lips with his tongue. He's been so turned on he didn't even know what to do with himself except drink whatever beverage was put in his hand. He was still kind of drunk. "They all wanted you so bad, Bill. They all wanted you, every single damn person in the room." Tom begins to really rut into Bill, pushing one hand flat against Bill's lower back near his tailbone and grabbing at his starred hip to make the angle steeper.

Bill cries out and pushes back against him, squeezing down hard on Tom's cock immediately. "But none of them can have me; only you have me," he replies, sounding as smug as Tom is feeling.

Tom grunts a response that sounds like assent; he pulls back and drives hard into Bill. Strangled noises tumble from both of them as Tom's body smacks against Bill's with the force and speed of his eager thrusting. Bill is shuddering beneath him, clenching so hard on Tom it's like fucking into the tightest silken vise imaginable, almost painful as his cock drags back and forth.

Bill screams, once, as Tom pounds away behind him, holding on tight to Bill's hips as the wet smack-smack of his cock entering and leaving and sliding back into his ass fills the air. His hands curl hard in the white sheets and he drives himself back against Tom, squeezing down on Tom's cock so hard that Tom is gasping for air. Stars brighter than Bill's glitter jeans snap at the margin of sight. Tom fucks into the grip of Bill's ass until Bill is moaning and clawing at the sheets as though trying to get away, and his hole is flexing down around Tom like a hungry thing.

Climax is coming, surging through Tom's veins, drawing his body tight. Tom's toes curl, hard, and he climbs up onto the bed on his knees, cramming his dick full-press into Bill and making his twin wail. As Tom's orgasm thunders through him it takes away sight and sound; all Tom can do is hold onto Bill with everything he's got and fuck into him with helpless jerks of his pelvis. Bill shudders below him and widens his stance, both bracing himself and opening a bit more for Tom.

"Ohh, ohhhh," Bill moans, one hand swiping along his chest. He rubs against the sheets as Tom collapses along his backside, shifting them onto their sides. He's pinching at his nipple ring, tugging it between thumb and forefinger.

"Let me do that," Tom murmurs, his voice still blown from the way Bill fucked his throat earlier. He disengages his spent cock from Bill and they both shiver. Bill loves nipple play almost as much as the main event, and Tom happily pictures a well-spent interval tonguing his twin's latest jewelry until they're both ready to go again.

As they both nestle down into the sheets that Bill turned down while they were fucking, Bill's slim white thighs come into view. Tom coaxes Bill to turn over and spots a familiar rosy hardness jutting against the creamy contrast of Bill's belly.

"You didn't come?" Tom demands, staggered. It's a blow to his pride; Bill always comes.

Bill bites his lip and stretches a leg up, rotating his hips and groaning a little as Tom's come starts to trickle down one leg. "I did, when you were three thrusts in," he confesses, and drops a hand to his unflagging cock. "I'm still hard. Turn over, Tomi?"

Tom's brow furrows and he has to consider it, licking his lips nervously. He knows what Bill wants. Tom hardly ever does it because it's so good when Bill does; it's _too_ good, it turns him on so fucking much, and he wonders sometimes how Bill can handle it.

Bill bites his lip and gives him wide eyes and it's Tom's undoing, as usual.

"Find the lube?" Tom invites, caving without so much as a whimper. He reaches out to stroke Bill's renewed hard-on and grins. He takes a perverse pride in it; the thought that he fucked Bill so long and so good that he came and still wants more, even though he knows the likelier explanation is that he's still running high from a day where he's been so much in the spotlight. He's done something fun and new and sexy, and everyone wants him.

Bill's face lights up enough to ensure Tom doesn't regret the decision. He scrambles for the foot of the bed, almost kicking Tom in the face with his haste. When he returns, he drops the tube casually to the sheets and grabs Tom's thigh, taking firm hold of it as though he's worried Tom will wriggle away.

"Hey—" Tom begins to protest, and Bill leans in and slips him the tongue, working his mouth open with soft hungry nibbles.

The kissing and soft fingers kneading his thigh go on until Tom relaxes, then Bill leans back with an impish grin. Tom returns it, the corners of his eyes soft in that way that he knows means he's giving Bill an utterly gone look, again.

"Eat sheet," Bill tells him, and flips him over onto the turned-down bed.

"Biiiill," Tom complains, but he's agreed to this, and he gathers his limbs under him as Bill places sucking kisses along his spine.

Bill dabbles his tongue in the divot at the end of Tom's spine and the last kiss, where the crease of Tom's ass begins, has teeth. It makes Tom hiss and start to push himself back, then a slick finger is there as the other hand parts his cheeks deftly.

"Ahh, ahhh." Tom is rocking forward, spreading his legs wider and they're both panting hard as Bill strokes two lube-covered fingers into him, pressing and stretching and widening him mercilessly. He's careful but quick, thorough but doesn't linger and Tom is hungry for it by the time he's open enough for Bill to kneel in place behind him, rubbing his wet cock against Tom's nearest ass-cheek. Tom pants and jerks as Bill twists three fingers up into him, dowsing for his spot. He has to bite his lips, hard, as he arches back in silent urging when Bill's long middle finger rubs against it.

"You want my cock instead, Tom?" Bill asks him, reaching between Tom's thighs to squeeze his rekindling erection.

It's too much, too soon, but Tom nods, his lip still trapped hard between his teeth. He folds over, facing the foot of the bed as Bill palms his ass and smacks it, once, fitting himself behind Tom with a low anxious noise.

"Aaagh jesus fuck," Tom yelps as Bill plows into him, riding him halfway down the bed with one powerful thrust.

He's not hard yet when Bill enters him, but his whole body is one giant throbbing nerve of neediness and it feels good anyhow. There's an ache low in his belly that wants to move lower, tighten into an erection, and it will if Bill keeps fucking him.

And Bill keeps fucking him.

Slow, languid thrusts ensue as Bill pumps Tom full of cock, taking his sweet time about it. He pulls Tom's hips up and thrusts down into his ass, rubbing against his spot and making Tom moan and try to squirm away.

"No, take it," Bill insists, holding him in place with strong hands. His breath speeds up and he moves faster, the length of him going over and over that one spot while Tom struggles and pants and gives up and grinds back against him. Bill is a monster, fucking into him with pendulum-steady regularity, long deep thrusts that make Tom whine and tighten down on him, trying to get him to speed up.

"Bill," Tom gasps out, as his cock swells again. He lowers his head and pushes back as Bill's pelvis and balls smack against him. Even the sounds are getting him excited again; the sloppy wet sounds of their fucking.

Bill groans, low and masculine, and grips Tom's waist. He brings their bodies together again and again. Tom lapses against the bedcovers; his mouth hangs open, he is enjoying the steady pounding he's receiving now, but fuck all if he's ever going to admit it. Bad enough Bill knows without being told. He braces himself and spreads his legs, disowning the low "uh, uh, uh," that is drawn out of him as Bill's flesh slaps against his and it goes in again, the hard length shaping his pleasure.

Another emphatic grunt leaves Bill and he's bending over Tom; for a moment Tom thinks he's trying to hug him, slumping in pleasure, but the arms around him are tightening, pulling him back.

"No...no," Tom protests, clinging to handfuls of sheet and thrashing resistance.

"Shut up," Bill growls in his ear. "Open up for my dick, Tomi."

The familiar nickname relaxes Tom unwilling and he's pulled back and spread over Bill's lap, thighs splayed to either side of Bill's lean, paler legs. He hates feeling helpless in Bill's arms like this, exposed like this, and if Tom taking it is uncommon, this is rare unto infinity.

Bill pulls Tom into his lap and keeps fucking him, rolling up into him with short urgent strokes, keeping Tom constantly filled with his cock, deep to shallow and back again, repeating the move over and over. They cry out together and Tom tries to lift himself, bouncing on Bill's cock the way Bill's done for him so many times. His thighs burn and Bill is fumbling around his hip and kissing at his jaw, trying for his mouth and settling for his neck instead. Bill's hand strokes his cock just right, thumbing below the head and going over the shaft in a firm grip.

"Ahh, ahhh," Tom moans, bucking his hips and driving Bill's cock so deeply up into him he can swear he feels it in his belly.

"Tomi," Bill utters brokenly against his neck, and his hips stutter, forcing his dick into Tom in another hard thrust. He grasps at Tom's hip with one hand as he makes the sweetest noise, licks Tom's neck, and sighs.

Tom can't stop panting; he wishes Bill's hips were still moving, because something riding against his prostate is better than having something lodged up his ass just _staying there_. He lolls his head back against Bill's shoulder and Bill kisses his temple absently, hand moving over Tom's cock faster, demanding. Tom cries out, confused as to why for a second, until he's pretty sure the sudden burst of warmth is Bill coming inside him, painting Tom with his own peculiar brand of ownership. 

When he feels Bill come Tom does, too, watching his come dribble over Bill's insistent fingers as he pulls the orgasm right out of him, milking Tom's cock for all it's worth. After watching for a moment, almost fascinated that it's actually happening again and so fast, Tom tips his head to the side and Bill doesn't disappoint. They share a long, slow kiss, all probing tongue and soft wet lips fitting together in the best solution yet to the puzzle that is everything they are.

They ease down onto the mussed sheets and Bill clings to his back, sealing their bodies together. The press of him is overwhelming, more than a little uncomfortable, but worth it. Tom's not going to be the first to pull away.

"Mmm, that was so good," Bill murmurs against the back of his neck, kissing it.

Tom mumbles back something noncommittal, already calculating how long it'll take to get Bill to try those leather jeans on, simply for the pleasure of unzipping them and doing him all over again. That reminds him.

"Bill?"

"Mmr?" Bill responds sleepily, kissing his neck again, lips dwelling there in fullness.

"If either of those fashion twins lays a hand on you again, he's going to lose it," Tom declares.

Bill doesn't laugh, he simply kisses Tom's neck and strokes at his hip, shifting until he slides out. He wraps his leg over Tom and nuzzles against him. "I'll wear the leather pants for you," he says, and yawns, and snuggles down around them. "After we wake up, and order some room service...you'll get your own personal fashion show."

Tom is convinced of it; he really is the luckiest man in the world.


End file.
